Thorns of a Rose
by Irish Angell
Summary: Meg finds the passageway that the Phantom escaped through and she decides to go and look for him. Not a very good summary, I know, but I was never good at them. Moviebased, Erik x Meg. HIATUS!
1. The Passage Through the Mirror

_**AN:**_ This is my very first POTO fic, so while reading, please keep in mind that I have never written a POTO fic until now. All reviews are welcome, but I would like minimal flames, if possible, please. :)I really tried to keep them all in character, so if they act a bit OOC, I'm sorry. Anyway, please read and review! Thankies!

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She had arrived just moments too late, for he had gone. She stepped upon the cold stone of the small island that was his lair and looked for any sign of the phantom or her friend, Christine Daae, but there was no one to be found. This woman was, of course, none other than the lovely young ballet dancer, Meg Giry.

'_They have gone.' _she thought to herself, _'I hope Christine is alright.' _As she thought this she noticed something white on the floor. She knew what it was long before she got close enough to see it. It was the mask that the phantom always wore on the right side of his face. She knelt down to pick it up, looking at it for a few moments before standing once again and continuing her search around the lair.

She looked at the mask in her hand. Since she was young she had always wondered why he had worn the mask. Everyone at the Opera Populaire had their own version of why the phantom wore the mask, but they were all rumors and tall tales, for no one ever really knew why...that is, no one really knew until that night.

As Meg recalled the events that happened no more than an hour before, she could remember Christine and the phantom singing on the opera stage, carrying on as if it were part of the show. She, along with her mother, Madame Giry, the Vicomte Raoul de Chagny, the managers, Andre and Firmin, and most of the other opera dancers and stage hands, had realized who he was probably around the same time Christine had. It was only a matter of time before the rest of the audience figured out.

Meg could see that Christine was gathering courage throughout the entire performance. For what? Meg did not know.

It was all made clear, however, when Christine had pulled off the phantom's mask to reveal his poor, deformed self to everyone in the opera house. Meg had gasped, unable to scream. The sight had been so terrifying, but she was not afraid. On the contrary, she found him more terrifying when he wore a mask.

She watched him as he looked from Christine to the audience and back to Christine. She could see it in his face; he had been betrayed. It was in this moment that she had felt sympathy and pity for him. It had to hurt, to be betrayed by the one person you loved most in the world.

She was pulled from her thoughts as one of the opera dancers put his hand on her shoulder. "Meg," he said, "you shouldn't be down here. The murderer could be anywhere, and he will not hesitate to kill, not even a woman."

She looked at him, slightly irritated. He had basically just told her that this was 'no place for a woman.' "Thank you for your concern, Willoughby," she replied coolly, "but I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself." She pulled away from him and walked over toward the organ. "Who does he think he is! 'He will not hesitate to kill a woman'! Rubbish! He doesn't even know him!" She stopped to think, "But, then again, neither do I. Who am I to say he wouldn't kill me?" She sighed.

This was all a mess. The man was heartbroken, and of course it doesn't give him the right to murder and kidnap, but can anyone really blame him? Meg could only imagine what his life was like. It had to be painful. Forced to live down in the cold, dark cellars of an opera house. Forced to be hidden from the world because you were born deformed. She felt her heart breaking, how could anyone endure such cruelty? Yet he had. For so many years, he had endured the pain and cruelty of others, and suffered through it all on his own. Such torture could make any man go mad, so it was only a matter of time before he cracked.

She lightly ran her fingers over the keys of the organ, the organ that she had so often heard in the darkness of the night, and she knew she would never hear again. Her eyes trailed from the organ to the many shards of glass that had been scattered upon the floor, obviously pieces from the shattered mirrors that overlooked them. Her eyes, which were already full of sadness for this poor man, filled with even more pity. She knew he was the one who had broken them, though out of anger, sadness, or both, she did not know.

As she looked over all the glass, she noticed that some glass on the floor was beneath a velvet curtain. Curiously, she walked to the curtain and pulled it back ever so slightly. Her eyes widened. Behind the curtain was a shattered mirror that had been broken through and lead to a secret passageway. _'This must be how he escaped!' _She thought to herself.

She looked around, making sure no one was watching her. No one was even looking her way, but rather looking through all the phantom's things. They had obviously given up the search for him. She looked disgusted at their behavior. Going through other people's things, invading privacy, and, as they had constantly reminded _her_, he was a murderer! How could they have given up a search for a _murderer _so quickly! How disgusting, she couldn't even bare to look at them anymore.

She picked up a lantern that one of the opera dancers had set down, looked around just once more to be absolutely sure no one saw her, and then quickly went through the broken mirror into the dark corridor. Making sure the velvet curtain had closed behind her so that no one would find it, she headed down the blackened hall, her lantern the only light breaking through the darkness.

The passage was cold, wet, and dreary and the smell was undescribable. The smell was so thick and disgusting, she wanted to vomit, but thought that would only add to the stench and held it down.

She seemed to be walking forever, not knowing where she was going or what she would do when she got there. Each time she thought of turning back she would keep reminding herself that she wasn't going all this way for nothing, which kept her going. However, after maybe an hour or so of this (she wasn't sure how long she had been walking), she was starting to think that maybe her pride was getting the best of her and it was about time she turned back.

But it was too late. As she turned to head back, a cold, dead hand clasped around her neck and pulled her back into an equally cold body. Meg gasped, and in the shock of being grabbed so suddenly, she dropped the lantern and the mask, both echoing through the corridor as they hit the ground. The lantern, whose light was dimmer now than it was a few moments ago, was just bright enough that you could see the mask that sat beside it.

Meg's hands reached for her neck and she grabbed the man's arm tightly, gasping for breath. His fingers that encircled her neck tightened as she had tightened her grip on his arm. His voice was dripping with venom as he spoke viciously into her ear, "You have just made the _biggest _mistake of your life."

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_**AN:**_ What d'you think! I hope I didn't rush it along too much. Oh, and many thanks to my friend, Shannon, who helped me introduce the phantom in this here ficcie! 


	2. The Phantom's Music

**_AN_**: Wow! Many thanks to all who reviewed! I'm very pleased everyone likes my story so far. I worked hard on this chapter because, to be completely honest, I wasn't really sure what was gonna happen after he caught her. **-innocent smile-**

**Laliel **– thanks so much for the review! I'm glad you liked that Meg liked the phantom without his mask best.  
**Rue Marie **– I agree. I wouldn't see the phantom warming up to Meg too quickly, so I'll try and keep that in mind.  
To everyone else who reviewed, many thanks! **-grins-** I will try not to disappoint you in this chapter!

_Quicky update: I fixed those spelling errors. Thanks for letting me know about them, Sarah! **-grins-**_

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Meg continued to gasp for breath. She was struggling with all her might, but no matter what she did, she could not break free from his grip. _'Why did I come here?'_ She asked herself in her mind,_ 'Why did I have to come here alone? What did I hope to accomplish?'_ She felt something warm and wet on her cheeks; she was crying._ 'I'm going to die! How could I be so stupid!' _more tears fell, _'Maman! I'm so sorry I didn't listen to you! I'm so sorry!'_

The man holding her noticed the mask on the ground beside the dimming lantern and he became even more angered. "What are you doing with _my mask_!" He hissed, squeezing tighter. Meg coughed, trying to answer, but she could hardly breathe, much less speak. He felt her struggle slowly lessen after a few moments, until she finally fell limp from lack of oxygen. He let her body fall to the floor; she was still alive...for now.

Slowly, he bent over to pick it up and once again donned the mask that had hidden his face from the world. He is, as you probably already know, the Phantom of the Opera. He stood over Meg, the ever-dimming light from the lantern just barely showing him her face. She looked so peaceful, like an angel. _'Like Christine had looked...'_

He pounded his fist against the wall. Why? Why did she have to leave him? His heart was aching and his eyes were burning. He felt the tears coming, but refused to allow them to descend. He pulled his mind away from Christine and focused on this girl. This foolish girl who thought she could capture the Phantom.

He admired her courage, _'but her courage will be her undoing.' _He should kill her, he knew he should. If he allowed her to live she could tell anyone where she had found him. Of course, he'd be long gone by that time, but he still didn't want to take that chance.

He turned her still-unconscious body over onto her back and knelt down beside her. He took his hands and wrapped them around her neck. She would not struggle, it would be easy to strangle her, and she wouldn't know what was happening, so she would feel no pain. He began to constrict his hands around her neck slowly and Meg started to gag.

_'Tighter. Just squeeze tighter! Make it quick. Just do it! Kill her! It was so easy to kill all those others. Piangi, the stage hand, and even the people lost in the fire of the Opera Populaire. The fire that **you **caused.'_ He had killed so many people, why should this be any different?

But he couldn't do it.

His hands loosened around her neck and she began to breathe rapidly, trying to catch her breath. He slowly picked her unconscious body from the ground and went back down the corridor. He would spare her life, just this once.

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Willoughby and the rest of the search party had left the phantom's lair, deciding that he had either escaped, died, or killed himself. They left most of his things there, as they were mostly old props from opera shows they had done in the past and were of no value to anyone. Some dancers did take some little trinkets they thought might be valuable, but otherwise, everything was left behind.

Meanwhile, the fires in the opera house had been extinguished and the mob who had been looking for the phantom came out. Madame Giry met them as they descended the stone steps in front of the Opera Populaire and ran to Willoughby, looking worried. "Victor, have you seen my daughter?" She asked him.

"She was with us in the Phantom's lair, but I told her it wasn't safe for her there and I assumed she left, as she had disappeared minutes later." Willoughby told her.

Madame Giry tried to keep calm, but her heart was caught in her throat and she found it hard to speak. "I have not seen her come out of the Opera Populaire, monsieur, and neither has anyone else. Are you sure she left?"

Willoughby nodded, "Yes, Madame, I'm sure. I haven't seen her since I spoke with her in that _dungeon _the _Phantom _called 'home.'" He spoke with loathing in his voice when he mentioned the phantom. He looked at the older woman, who was looking very ill. "Are you alright, Madame?"

"Yes, monsieur. I'll be fine. Please go and help them search for any survivors." She said.

"Are you sure?" She nodded. "All right. I'll be sure to keep an eye out for Meg, Madame. I'm sure she's alright. Probably helping in the search for survivors as well, eh? You know how she is."

"Yes, I do." She said, trying to smile. After many minutes of convincing him she was fine, he left. She knew now where her daughter was, and who she was with, and it did not calm her nerves. Her daughter was alive, of this she was sure. However, she was not sure how long she would be kept alive. _'Erik,'_ she thought, _'where have you taken my daughter?'_

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Meg awoke several hours later in a soft, warm bed, wrapped in black silk sheets. Her vision was blurry and it took her a few moments to focus and take in her surroundings._ 'Where... am I?' _She thought to herself and coughed slightly. Her neck was in pain and it didn't take her long to figure out why. She shot straight up in bed, breathing hard, and gasped.

"It wasn't a dream!" She whispered.

She looked around and recognized this place at once. She was in one of the many rooms in the Phantom's lair. What was she doing here? Surely the Phantom wouldn't have come back here with a mob out looking for him?

She heard a noise from the other room and slowly got to her feet, tiptoeing to the door and, opening it slightly, peeked out. There, out in the main room, was the Phantom. He was picking up sheets of music, among other things, that had been thrown to the floor and she could see that he was cursing under his breath.

He sighed, looking miserable, and went to turn toward the organ when he noticed her watching him.

She saw him looking in her direction and quickly shut the door behind her. _'He saw me!'_ She began to panic,_ 'He's going to kill me! Oh God, what do I do!'_

There was no way out of this room except for the door that she was leaning against with all her might, as if trying to keep him out. Like that would work. He probably could kick the door down easily.

But nothing happened. She stood there for about a minute before she realized that he hadn't done anything. No pounding on the door. No threats. Nothing.

Then she heard it; the most beautiful, yet sorrowful, song she had ever heard. She turned around and slowly opened the door, peeking out once more to see the Phantom, playing the soft, possessing music on his organ. She leaned her head gently against the frame of the door and watched him, allowing the music to caress her.

He continued to play, his eyes closed and his face mournful. Meg watched him for several minutes as he put his heart and soul into each and every note he played. _'Somehow,' _she thought, _'in this moment... he doesn't seem so... frightening.'_

He knew she was there, he could sense her presence and feel her eyes gazing upon him. He chose to ignore her, however, as he really didn't care who was watching. Nothing mattered to him right now, but his music. When he finally reached the end of his song, he stopped and sat there for a few moments, his eyes still closed, and listened to the silence.

Meg was sad when the song had ended. It was so sad, so beautiful, and, for some reason, it made her feel calm and safe, and she really didn't understand why. Though he was no longer playing, she continued to watch him, unable to take her eyes off of him.

He looked so sad; so full of pain, sorrow, and a silent rage. A rage that had reached its breaking point when the woman he loved left him for another man, driving him to insanity. This man had kidnaped Meg's best friend, his only love, and had killed so many innocents in the process of trying to make her his. And now, here he sat, alone and miserable because he had loved her too much to make her live the rest of her days with a man she did not love in return.

Meg snapped out of the trance the music had put on her, only to realize the Phantom was now staring back at her, his facial expression unreadable. He stood up and walked toward her, and Meg found herself unable to move. All she could do was watch him as he ascended the steps, their eyes locked with one another, her gaze fearful and his unfeeling. He stopped just inches from her and she gulped.

For a few moments they stood like that, just staring into each others eyes. Meg tried to make out what he was thinking or feeling, but he was like a blank page, filled with no words. She finally decided to break the silence. "Um..." She said, tearing her eyes away from his, "w-what are you g-going t-to do to m-me?" She stared at the floor, not daring to look him in the face again.

"What kind of question is that?" He asked in a cold monotone. Meg looked up at him questioningly and he continued, "I have no use for you, girl. Go home. Tell no one of what you've seen and leave me to live, and die, alone."

Meg looked at him, shocked that he was letting her go freely.

"Take the boat." He said, turning toward the murky water, "I assume you know the way, seeing as you found your way here." He added coldly. Meg merely nodded, not sure of what to say. "Then be on your way and never return." He said, his voice was low, cold, and venomous. Meg had the distinct feeling that she should go before he changed his mind, so she nodded and walked to the boat in the water and quickly got in, rowing away from him and the small island that was his lair... no, his home.

The gate closed behind her as she passed through, and she watched him get smaller and smaller in the distance as she rowed further and further away, toward the world...the bright world that would never accept him.

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**_AN_**: THIS IS NOT THE END! (That would be a pretty stupid ending to a story, no?) But merely a cliffhanger! I was really worried I might have made Erik and Madame Giry a little OOC. Please lemme know if I did. Remember, this is my first POTO fic, so I'm still trying to get the characters down just right.  
Also, I realized after I had written it, but there is one scene in this chapter that is slightly similar to a scene in another POTO fic I read, and I just wanna tell you: that was not intentional! I only realized this after I had written it, and I liked it too much to change it! So please do not say I tried to take someone's idea, cuz I didn't! Honestly!  
Anyway, I hope you liked it! I'll try to get chapter 3 up ASAP! Please review! 


	3. Peace Offering

_**AN:**_ I saw POTO again on the 7th! Teehee! That makes it 4 times! Woot! I went with my mom, her friend, and her friend's daugher (who is one of my best friends) and it was so much fun! It was kind of like a birthday celebration thing cuz my friend and I have birthdays that are 4 days apart (she's the 6th, I'm the 10th) so it was a lot of fun. I hardly ever see her cuz she lives 2 1/2 hours away from me, so it was really awesome! I had the best time. ANYWAY, enough about me, let's get this party started! I hope you like it!

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It had been nearly a month since Meg's encounter with the infamous Phantom of the Opera. When she had emerged from the Opera House, she was met immediately by her mother, who pulled her into a warm embrace and refused to let go of her for several minutes. Meg hadn't meant to worry her, but she did. For about a week after the incident, Madame Giry kept a close eye on Meg, but things soon went back to normal shortly afterwards. 

Meg had told everyone that she had seen the Phantom hang himself, and everyone seemed to except this as the truth. No one bothered to go down to the dungeons of the Opera House to see if it were true or not. Instead, they had boarded up the entrance to the Phantom's labyrinth and decided to put the whole thing behind them.

Meg didn't know why she had protected the Phantom. Perhaps payment for sparing her own life? Or was it because the poor man had suffered so much already, that it just seemed fair to let him live the rest of his life in solitude? Meg wasn't sure, but it just seemed like the right thing to do at the time.

The destruction of the Opera Populaire had put many people out of work, and left many homeless. Meg and her mother had found a flat not far from the Opera House and took temporary jobs at a bakery down the street. This would only last until the Opera Populaire was rebuilt, which would take some time.

Christine and Raoul had married just a few days earlier and were off on their honeymoon. Meg had the distinct feeling that Christine wanted to get as far away from Paris as possible, most likely to escape from all the madness _Don Juan Triumphant! _had created. Meg had wanted desperately to ask her friend what had happened that night, down in the cellar of the Opera Populaire, but thought better of it. Christine had already been through so much, asking her to relive that nightmare would only make things worse.

It had been nearly a month. Nearly a month since that night, since _Don Juan Triumphant!_, since the Phantom had let Meg go. No matter how much she tried, Meg could not stop thinking about him. He haunted her mind in the morning, he haunted her mind at work, but especially, he haunted her dreams. She couldn't forget him.

"_...leave me to live, and die, alone." _These words continued to repeat in her head. In her mind she could see him standing there, his eyes sorrowful and his voice cold and distant. Why was he there? Why was he haunting her so? Would she never be free from this hold he had upon her?

She needed answers, answers only he could give. If she didn't speak with him, he would always be there, haunting her every thought.

It was then that Meg decided to go back.

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Meg left for the Opera Populaire late one Friday night. She figured it'd be easier to enter the Opera House unnoticed if she went at night. She walked up the steps, a bag wrapped around her shoulder, and slowly pushed the door open. Inside, the building was torn apart, as they had begun rebuilding just last week. Meg shut the door behind her and headed toward the back of the opera, which was even worse than the front because of all the fire damage. The stage had been completely torn down, piles of garbage waiting to be taken out. These piles consisted mostly of burnt wood (which Meg figured had once been part of the stage) and the destroyed set of _Don Juan Triumphant!_.

The entrance to the Phantom's lair that the mob had used had been boarded up, this she knew, but she also knew that there was another way to his home. She headed toward the diva's dressing room, the one that had been Carlotta's, then Christine's.

She opened the door.

This was one of the lucky rooms that had not been reached by the fires, and Meg was glad. So much damage had been caused to the Opera House by the fire, that it made her happy to know that some of what was once her home was still unharmed.

She walked to the back of the room toward the mirror, remembering that there had been a passage through it that night she had come to see Christine, and she knew it would still be there. Meg felt around the mirror, trying to find some sort of handle to open it, and after a few minutes of searching, she finally found it. She pulled back hard and the mirror slowly slid opened. Meg looked down the long, dark corridor, and, taking a candle out of her bag and lighting it, she prepared to go down.

Meg hesitated, remembering what happened the last time she went down a dark corridor by herself to look for the Phantom. _'Come on, Meg, this is no time to get scared! You're here now, just go.' _She thought. "He probably doesn't even live here anymore...," she said out loud, "yeah, he probably left, so why even bother?" She turned to leave, but stopped and looked back. She stared down the corridor for, what seemed like, minutes before gathering the courage to go down.

She took a deep breath, "Well, here I go again." And with that, she swung her bag over her shoulder and passed through the mirror, turning and sliding it shut behind her. She walked down the dark corridor, with only the candle in her hand to guide her, and followed the path until she reached many stone steps that looked like they went on for miles. She took another breath. _'This is going to take awhile.' _She thought.

She headed down the stairs, watching out for any hidden booby traps, and when she finally reached the bottom she followed yet another corridor until she reached the lake. "Oh no!" She whispered to herself, out of breath, "The boat is gone! He must've taken it back after I left." She groaned. She would have to wade through the water to get to his lair. This was proving to be quite a bothersome task.

Meg stepped into the freezing cold water and yelped in surprise. She quickly covered her mouth with her hand, hoping that the Phantom didn't hear her, if he was even there at all. She waded through the water until she saw the entrance to his home.

Wading through the water as fast as she could, she reached the closed gate, her only means of entrance to his home. Letting out of a breath of defeat, she leaned against the gate, tired from her long journey.

'_Why am I going through all this trouble? He won't thank me. For all I know, he'd probably try and kill me again.'_ Meg thought, leaning against the gate and trying to catch her breath. After a few minutes of rest she prepared to leave, but stopped when she heard a cold voice from behind the gate.

"Who are you?" Meg turned around to see the Phantom, standing on the edge of his island, wearing an angered expression. When he saw Meg's face, his expression changed from anger to surprise. "You. Why have you–? Did I not tell you to never return!"

"Y-Yes." Meg stuttered.

"Then why are you here? Who are you?"

"Meg Giry, sir." She said, trying to be respectful.

"Giry...ah, now I remember you. Madame Giry's daughter, the dancer." All surprise melted away from his face and his expression became that of anger again. "You haven't answered my other question. Why are you here?"

Meg gulped, "Um...I-I just wanted to m-make sure that you were okay." The Phantom raised an eyebrow and Meg held her breath, waiting for a response.

"I'm fine." He said flatly, "Now that you know, you can go." He turned his back to her.

"Wait!" He stopped. "P-Please. I don't mean to be a burden to you, I really don't, I just - I - well, I brought you some food. I didn't know if you needed any." He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "It's not much, just some left over bread from the bakery that they were going to throw away. It's still good, though! I wouldn't bring you anything disgusting." He kept his back to her and Meg didn't know if she should say anything more or just stay quiet.

"I don't want your pity." He said coldly after a moment or two, "Nor do I need it."

"N-No! It's not-!" She began, but he cut her off.

"I don't want your charity, then!" He said angrily, turning toward her as he said this. Meg jumped back with a start, her stomach in knots.

There was a moment of silence before Meg spoke again. "I'm sorry if I've offended you, that was not my intention." She said, looking away from him. "I shouldn't have come, I'm sorry to have wasted your time." Meg turned to leave, feeling defeated and...angry. Angry that she had wasted her time for that inconsiderate, unthankful man!

Meg clenched her fist and turned toward him. His eyes widened slightly, surprised at her sudden change in mood. She did not look happy. "I came all this way just for you!" She snapped at him, "I snuck into the Opera House, I walked down a long, dark corridor and down hundreds of stone steps! I even walked through cold, murky water just to bring you some food, and all you do is throw it all back in my face! Well, I'm not taking it!" She took a deep breath, "I brought you food and you're going to take it!"

Meg began to hyperventilate and was so outraged, she didn't notice the small grin that had appeared on the Phantom's face during her rants (and, apparently, neither did he or he would have stopped). The last thing he had expected was for her to lose her temper like that and, for some odd reason, he found it rather funny. The first thing he found funny in an extremely long time.

"I don't care if you eat it or not, but I'm not taking it back with me." She said, setting the bag on a rock outside his gate. By this time, the Phantom had realized the small grin on his face and quickly frowned, hoping Meg hadn't noticed (and she hadn't). "Do what you want with it! At least I know that I tried." She turned, yet again, and began to make her way back to the dock, but this time he stopped her.

"Meg Giry," The Phantom called after her, and Meg turned to look back at him. He looked as if he were unsure of what to say next. He wanted to say "thank you," but found it difficult to do so.

Meg seemed to understand what he was trying to say and simply nodded in reply. He nodded back and with that, she turned back around and headed home, smiling to herself the entire way.

* * *

**_AN_**: Omg, this chapter is so horrible. **_-blushing-_** I'm so embarrassed. I'll probably rewrite it, I dunno. It wasn't meant to turn out this way. I was just writing and before I knew it, I had this whole 'Meg loses her temper' scene and somehow it turned out to be funnier than I had intended it to. It also turned into a bit of a fluff scene near the end, didn't it? With the whole 'he nodded, she nodded' thing?  
Man, I am so sorry 'bout that, everyone. I'm really out of it right now, lol! I wrote this all on my birthday (yesterday, 3/10 in case anyone wanted to know when this chapter was posted, which would be 3/11) and I was kind of hyper! lol!  
I definitely know that Erik is OOC at the end, but, y'know...maybe he's not? He's only human, right? He can't be sour all the time. He's gotta smile, laugh, or find things funny at some point in his life, doesn't he? Doesn't he? Oh, I hope. lol!  
This was more of a transition chapter, anyway. To just kind of get the flow of it started and get them together and start talking, y'know?  
Just bare with me, please! I'll probably end up rewriting it later (if no one likes it, that is). Which I hope everyone does, cuz it'd be a real pain in the butt to have to rewrite it, but I'd do it if you guys really wanted me too. I love ya guys, and I'd only do it for you:) There will be plenty of angst in future chapters, kay?  
Well, anyway, review, lemme know, thanks! 

_P.S._ Does Madame Giry have a first name?  
_P.P.S._ I won't get a chance to write very much til next weekend, I've got OGTs (Ohio Graduation Tests)all next week and when I'm not taking them, I'll be studying, and when I'm not studying, I'll be at work or sleeping. Just thought I'd let ya know it'll probably be a while before the next chapter is posted.  
_P.P.P.S._ If anyone is wondering, the 'peace offering' was the food that Meg brought him. Just thought I'd clear it up before anyone asks.


	4. Unwanted Memories

**_AN:_** Wow! I'm so glad you guys liked the last chapter. I was so worried you wouldn't. Thanks for all the "happy birthdays" I got. And Sarah, I agree, Meg's speech could be less 21st century. I'll try and work on that. **_-grins-_** Oh, btw everyone, we shall see little bits of Erik's past from this chappie on! Teeheehee! His memories will be all written -_like this-, _just so you know. Now, on with the show!

* * *

Meg returned to the Phantom's lair almost every night, leaving him food on the rock outside his gate. She hadn't seen him since that first night she came, but she knew he was still there, watching her as she came. After a while she started bringing him more things besides food, such as parchment, quills, and ink, so that he could continue to write his music.

Meg couldn't explain it, but she looked forward to going to the Phantom's lair every night. Perhaps she enjoyed the thrill of it all? Whatever the reason, Meg didn't know and, to be completely honest, she didn't care. All she knew is that she wanted to be there.

When she returned to the Phantom's lair that night, however, she was surprised to find that the entrance to his home was open. She didn't dare pass through it, afraid she might offend him by entering without his permission. _'But perhaps this is an invitation?'_ She thought. Meg took a deep breath, looking all around, trying to find any evidence that he was there, but she found none. She bit her lip, _'Should I?'_

Meg finally made her decision and slowly entered his lair, looking around cautiously, still unsure if she should even be entering. She stepped up onto his island and looked around. He had cleaned it up since she had last stood in this spot and it looked really nice, considering the location. She walked over to the organ and sat on the bench in front of it, staring at the sheets of music that rested on it. The ink glistened in the candlelight, leaving her to believe that these were freshly written pieces and that the one who had written them could not be far.

She read over the lyrics that were written beneath the notes and almost cried. The words were so sad, so mournful. _'Had he had any happiness in his life?'_ she wondered, gently placing her hand on the white, glossy keys of the organ and running her fingers over them, as she had done before. She sat there for a moment or two before attempting to play the notes.

She had learned how to play the piano when she was a little girl from Monsieur De la Fontaine, an old man who used to work at the Opera Populaire. She remembered how he used to tell her stories of the Phantom of the Opera; dark stories of how he haunted the Opera House. He would tell her things her mother would not, for Madame Giry knew of her daughter's curiousness and refused to give her anything more to be curious about. However, her efforts were futile, as young Meg had learned all she ever wanted to know from Monsieur De la Fontaine, rest his soul.

Meg was so absorbed into trying to play the notes that she hadn't noticed another presence in the room.

The Phantom was standing at the top of the stairs that led to his room and was watching her. He could not figure out why this girl would return to his lair practically every day (and bring him food, for that matter). This didn't make any sense to him. No one had ever wanted anything to do with him, not even his own mother.

His mother...

He shut his eyes tightly, trying as hard as he could to suppress the memory that tried so desperately to pry itself free from the deep, darkness of his mind where he had buried it so long ago...

However, try as he might, the memory got free and flooded his every thought, pulling him farther and farther away from where he stood, and drowning him in darkness...

_-It was the first time he had been outside his home; the first time she had taken him anywhere. He was excited. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and the wind whistled in his ears as the horses pulled the carriage through the streets. He smiled as the wind hit his face, blowing his hair all over. It was such a wonderful feeling! He felt free and, for the first time in his life, he felt...normal.-  
_

He pulled himself from his thoughts before he could be taken any further when the music Meg was playing got even louder. The sound bounced off the walls and echoed throughout the lair, ringing in his ears. Finally, she stopped, wincing at how horrible it had sounded.

"I am terrible." She said to herself.

'_Agreed!' _Thought the Phantom, rubbing his ears, though he secretly thanked her for bringing him out of his memory.

Meg stood up, turning around to leave, but froze instantly when she saw him. "I-I'm sorry!" She said quickly, "I didn't mean to intrude, but the gate was open and I didn't see you and – I apologize. It was wrong of me to enter without your permission, and especially to start snooping around." She added, referring to the music that she had tried (and failed) to play. Meg hung her head in shame, trying her best to express how sorry she was.

He looked at her for a moment. "Why are you here?" He asked after a minute. Meg looked at him.

"I - ahem," She said, clearing her throat. He slowly walked down the stone steps and made his way toward her as she spoke. "I just came to bring you some more food." She took a couple steps backwards as he got closer.

"Why?" He asked again, calmly and silently, just inches away from her. His intense green eyes bore into her brown ones and she found it hard to look away. His eyes were so hypnotizing, she felt like she could look into them forever.

She finally snapped out of it and took a breath. "W-Well, I thought you might be...hungry?" She replied, not even sure herself why she kept returning. "Why do you have such a hard time excepting help from anyone, anyway?" She asked, feeling a tad bit more bold than she had a moment ago.

This aggravated the Phantom. He would have thought that the answer to that question would have been quite obvious. "Because no one _ever _helps me!" He growled, not meaning for the words to be as harsh as they had sounded.

However, Meg was not frightened by his answer, but was actually angered by it. "Well, now someone does!" Meg snapped back, getting up in his face. They glared at each other for a few moments before Meg realized that this man could kill her if he wanted to, and that he had almost succeeded in doing so once before. Slowly, keeping eye contact, she backed away, trying her best not to show any fear.

"Look," she said, trying to reason with him, "we aren't getting anywhere by arguing. Can't we just...talk?"

"What do you suggest we talk about, Mademoiselle?" He said in an icy tone.

Meg ignored this and said, "Well, I don't know your name." He tensed. "Is something wrong?"

"I no longer have a name." He said flatly, "It was washed away...a long time ago." He closed his eyes, once again trying to suppress more unwanted memories. This time they had no chance to overtake him, for Meg spoke once more.

"What happened?" She asked, concern in her voice. He opened his green eyes and looked at her.

"_None of your business._" He hissed.

Meg took a step back, just to be safe, and said, "I'm not here to judge, nor do I mean to cause you any trouble, but...please, I just want to know your name. Is that too much to ask?" He said nothing. Meg walked over to the miniature Opera House, trying to think of something, anything, to hopefully get him to open up to her.

He simply watched her, glued to the spot.

After what seemed like a half hour, Meg finally decided to start a conversation, one she was sure would perhaps get him to tell her his name. "Growing up," she began, "maman would refuse to tell me about the Opera Ghost; only that he existed, and that was it." She turned to look at him for moment, "Maman was always afraid of how I would react to such stories. She always said I was too curious and would only get myself in trouble." She turned back to look at the miniature Opera House. "But what maman didn't realize is that by not telling me about the famous 'Opera Ghost,' she only increased my curiosity. It didn't matter anyway, for an old man who used to work at the Opera Populaire told me all about him." She closed her eyes and smiled as memories from her childhood came flooding back to her. She chose one memory in particular, though it was quite a silly one and made Meg flush slightly as she recalled it.

"I allowed my mind to wander constantly," she continued, "imagining what the Opera Ghost looked like, who he was, and what his name was." She gave a slight chuckle and turned slightly pinker, "I called him–"

"Frederic." He finished. Meg's eyes snapped open and she turned to look at him.

"How did you–?"

"Being forced to live in such a place for so many years, having to keep yourself hidden, it can get lonely." He said, his voice monotone and his face expressionless. "What else did I have to do?"

Meg turned red. "U-Um...h-how much do you, um...what I mean to say is – were you...always there?" She didn't know what to say, afraid to talk about something that he might not know about, but at the same time, wanting to find out what he knew.

When Meg was younger, you see, she would play alone in the back of the Opera House, usually when her mother was busy training the ballet for upcoming operas, and she would pretend that she had met the Phantom, and they would go on adventures together. This was, of course, before Christine had come to live at the Opera Populaire. Yet even after Christine had come, Meg would sneak away sometimes so that she could go off into her own little world with the mysterious Phantom.

However, Meg wasn't sure if he knew about this. For all she knew, he could have only watched her one time and heard the name 'Frederic.'

"Was I always there?" He repeated, and Meg nodded. He shook his head and she sighed with relief. The Phantom turned around so that his back was to her and then said, very calmly, "Just most of the time." He smiled to himself, knowing that Meg was turning bright red.

"How much do you know!" She demanded.

"Enough." He said, "You were my entertainment, aside from the operas." _'And Christine.' _He added silently. "But I must say," he continued, "I rather enjoyed your performances. They were very entertaining." Meg felt her cheeks heating up. "My favorite was when Meg and Frederic defeated the evil dragon, Enfer, and saved the Opera Populaire."

"YOU REMEMBER THAT!" Meg shouted, turning even redder (if that's possible). She felt so foolish for ever doing such things, and cursed herself for it.

"You don't forget something like that." He said silently, "Especially when someone makes you out to be a hero, and not a monster." Meg felt herself feeling slightly less foolish.

"So," she said, "are you going to tell me your name or shall I be forced to call you Frederic?" She looked at him, smiling. "That's not really your name, is it?" She asked, and he shook his head. "Well, I thought I might check. It would be something if I was right, don't you think?" He didn't say anything, so Meg shut up.

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Meg spoke up again, "Will I ever learn your name?"

Again he said nothing.

"Very well." She said, unable to hide the disappointment in her voice, "I best be on my way, then. I will be back in a couple days with more food, if that's all right, and perhaps some other supplies, as well." She bowed her head ever so slightly, "Goodbye."

She turned to leave. "Erik." He said.

"Huh?" Meg turned around to look at him once more.

"It is what they used to called me..." He said, staring off into space, as he was lost in thought.

Meg's face brightened and she smiled. "Erik." Meg repeated, trying it out. She liked how it tasted in her mouth, _'Much better than 'Phantom.''_ thought she.

Erik watched her, still unsure of what to make of her. She was so different from Christine, and yet, at the same time, she possessed many qualities that Christine herself had possessed... that Christine still possessed.

He didn't notice that Meg was also watching him, though for a completely different reason.

"You–" she said, bringing him out of his thoughts once more, "you don't look like an 'Erik.'"

"I don't look much like a 'Frederic,' either." He replied.

"Fair enough." Said Meg, smiling. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For telling me your name." He raised his eyebrows. Why was she thanking him for something so trivial? "Well, I best be on my way." She said, bowing her head once again, "Until next time...Erik."

* * *

**_AN: _**Sorry for taking so long to get this chapter up. Been a tad bit busy. :( I'm not sure if I particularly like this chapter, but then again, I didn't like that last one either, and I was proven wrong about it. It's just another 'filler' chapter anyway. I'm just trying to get the pace along so that they tolerate each other enough for Meg to come back, LOL! It's nothing like her being trapped with him. She has to _want _to go to him and bring him these things, and he kind of has to _want _her to come, too, so it's kind of hard to do that and keep them in character (especially if you are a first time POTO writer, like myself). Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it.

Onto chapter 5!


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